Unexplainable Decisions
by Mina1914
Summary: As a high-earning prostitute, Arthur has his daily rounds with his regular customers. Some he is eager to please, others not as much.
1. FrUK

Pairing(s): FrUK, USUK, RusEng, EngBel, UKHK

Notes: Alasdair is Scotland

**Warning:** prostitution, sexual violence

**_A/N:_** This fic is not entirely focused on FrUK. As mentioned above and in the summary, it's prostitute Arthur working with various clients. Each chapter will be it's own smut part, with different pairings, so if you dislike one of the pairings listed above, just skip the chapter and you won't have to deal with the unwanted smut, because there is no plot, so nothing is vital to read to understand other chapters. And I realize this type of..setting and quirks of this brothel may not be correct, assuming one of you may be an expert in brothels or something, and the reactions and interactions may be peculiar, but I write how I would enjoy it. Hopefully you will as well!

* * *

Part 1 -** FrUK**

Two blank emeralds faced a dilemma. The predicament of decision. Two strips of hair curled inwards, creases of the pale skin forming. Worrying at his bottom lip, Arthur Kirkland stared at a paper on his desk.

The repetitive tapping of pencils drowned his mind. He clawed his nails into the wood of the desk as he racked his brain to think of anything, an alternative, to replace the truth. As expected, a paper had been passed out. It asked the same tedious questions, as if you should know to answer them at a young age as he was.

What career do you strive for? What are your plans for the future? College you plan on attending? Etcetera, etcetera. All bullshit, Arthur sighed mentally.

Then he gave up. He no longer had a fuck to give. An amused smirk spread over his frustrated scowl as he jotted down his "plans" for his future. His career. Let's see how _this _school reacts to his response. He x'd out the blank space for college.

Ten minutes later, the teacher called all papers forward. Sighing with content, Arthur cracked his knuckles as he sat back, before passing his paper to the person in front of him. He didn't care when the girl looked back at him with an arched brow. She shouldn't snoop anyways.

The next day, Arthur was called to the office.

He wasn't surprised or anxious to find his brother sitting in the chair across from the eighth grade counselor. In fact, the look of annoyance and I'm-going-to-kick-your-ass-after-school on Alasdair's face only amused him. He smiled warmly as if nothing was the matter.

"Again? Seriously, Arthur?", he growled under his breath as said boy quietly and respectively shut the door behind him and took a humble seat from his brother, and the displeased counselor. Shifting in his seat, Arthur crossed his arms and arched a brow at the other two.

"Yes, well, what requires my presence?", he spoke up with a modest smile on his lips. The hand resting on Alasdair's knee clenched into a fist, as if ready to strike him. Arthur laughed internally. The counselor looked uncomfortable, and cleared his throat as he leaned forward to place his forearms on the surface of his intimidating desk.

After scratching his beard and smacking his lips thoughtfully, he stared into Arthur's innocent looking eyes. "Uh...well.", he began and cleared his throat again, "Regarding what you wrote down yesterday, for...your plans for career."

Blinking a few times with a look of utter confusion, Arthur feigned surprise, "What is the problem? I merely did as I was asked." The counselor grumbled to himself and shifted his big body in his creaky chair, "Surely..this must be a prank. But knowing you and your behavior in class, it would be a surprise if it were."

Arthur grinned with pleasure internally, but frowned in his appearance. "It is not a joke. What I strive for is severely real.", he said sternly, furrowing his brow. Alasdair sighed and ran his hands over his face. The counselor pursed his lips, and folded his fat hands together on the desk. "I doubt you really mean you strive to be...", he began with hesitation, trailing off, uncomfortable.

"A prostitute? Yes", Arthur began in a clear, amused tone, smiling smugly, "Yes, I do wish for this line of work." Alasdair simply stood up, and stormed out of the room.

* * *

**12 years later**

Mixed melodies of foot steps, conversation, and cars passing wafted into Arthur's ears. He sat there, smiling softly in content as he sipped at his hot tea, his fingers curled gratefully around the warm disposable coffee cup. Sitting outside in the chilly morning air, he was perched at a table outside of a café, with a colorful scarf wrapped around his frail neck. Maybe hiding bruises, maybe not.

With his fingertips tinted a pink, he lifted the cup back to his lips to take a short sip of his tea, exhaling through his nose in delight. He sat there, remembering his past before now. And he did not regret that day. It was not the first time it's happened, being confronted about his choice in career. His brothers had insisted on him switching schools because of the disapproval of the office, but Arthur hadn't cared either way.

Even now, he enjoyed his job. He loved how he made his money. When he was a boy at the time, the idea of given a place to live, sustenance, and pay just to have sex sounded splendid. It still does, and Arthur is very thankful.

And even the part of him selling his body to strangers was enjoyable for him. He loved being fucked, and to fuck, whether it was by a grizzly, overweight middle aged man, or an under-aged girl, he didn't care. He grinned devilishly to himself and then stood from the metal table, and it's curled designs.

Pulling his cardigan closer around himself, he sighed lightly as he turned and began towards the brothel once more. His next appointment was in thirty minutes. It would take ten minutes to walk back to the brothel, so that gave him a while to prepare for his client. Even if he was late, he knew they wouldn't miss a chance for his body. He was the most desired worker in the brothel, nonetheless.

He was humming to himself as he approached the brothel, gazing up at it's somewhat welcoming exterior. Double mahogany doors, a light colored canopy, pots of flowers about. There was a bench as well, and an ash tray beside it. That's where he lingered for his smoking, seeing as it was prohibited from within the brothel.

Once he paced inside, he was greeted by the receptionist. "Evening, Arthur. Welcome back.", Elizaveta called out, as her fingers tapped aggressively on the keyboard, her violet colored nails the only standing out colors on the boring white. Her hair was tied back today, one long lock loosened, drooping down to frame her face. A flower clip added to her appearance. She looked charming as always.

"Hey.", he said shortly, as he began towards the grand staircase, loosening his scarf. The thick carpet brushed his shoes noisily as he walked over it. Passing the multiple couches meant for waiting, he ascended the first few steps before hearing, "You have a new client in about twenty minutes. Surely you are aware."

He rolled his eyes to himself, his hand drifting over the detailed banister on his way up, and called back to her, "Yes, thank you for the reminder." He received no response, so he hurried up the stairs, into the main hallway. He eyed the closed doors, seeing the golden numbers on them. There were only about a handful of whores working with him, and he knew them well enough. He's been working here the longest, so he's seen many people come and go.

The room currently next to his was occupied by his sort-of-friend, Lili. She was fairly new. Extremely young, perhaps under-age, but he never mentioned his curiosity to her. She seemed to stay within her room the majority of the time.

Brushing those unneeded thoughts away, he approached his door and withdrew his key. Upon entering his room, it hadn't changed, really. As always, the room itself was pretty huge, seeing as it was the best at the brothel, for the highest earning prostitute.

The same king sized bed was perched in the center, it's embroidered sheets done personally. The floral pattern spiraled up the pale fabric, and it made him feel happy each time he looked at it. The pillow cases matched. His desk was in the corner, sitting before the wide window, it's peach drapes pulled back. His laptop, and half drank tea still resting on it. His books were splayed about on the top as well. His flowers were still appealing to the eye, and he had to water it before his client arrived, else he forget.

His dresser sat beside the bed, and on the other side of the bed was the night stand with it's alarm clock, expensive lamp, and drawer full of condoms and lubricant. Approaching his dresser, with it's wide mirror, he set his scarf on it as he downed the rest of his tea, before glancing at his appearance. Reaching a hand up to touch the bruises and strangulation marks on his neck, he smiled softly. Then he turned to gently remove his cardigan, placing it on his bed to hang up after watering his flowers.

By the time he finished setting up the place – putting away his daily clothes, watering his flowers, hiding anything that represented it anything other than a place of sex (like his laptop or books) – the client was due in five minutes. Sometimes, they arrived earlier, some late. Either way, Arthur wasn't anxious. He must have done this a million times. He lost count.

Stretching his arms out as he examined his body in the mirror, like he did each time before a session, he hummed to himself. Bruises dotted his arms. Thinking back, he knew it must've been from Mr. Jones. He did seem to grow rowdy in bed. It was strange, he was such a pleasant and well-mannered lad otherwise. And the inside of his thighs was worse. Yellow, black, and purple bruises splotched the pale skin. Obviously from incessant pummeling of the flesh. It hurt to tense his muscles.

Then, turning away, he began towards his walk in closet. This client requested crossdressing. Arthur didn't mind. It just felt a little demeaning, but what wasn't in this sort of job? He knew the blatant look of 'whore' crossdressing was unpleasant (red fish net stockings, 8 inch high heels, cleavage revealing tops, mini-mini skirts), so he opted to something more subtle. But what did the client prefer? School girl fiasco? Lingerie? Dress?

Arthur didn't have time to think about it, so instead he just put on silk lingerie. The frilly, pink panties felt nice against his penis and backside, and he enjoyed how the push up bra felt on his chest. It's bow drooped downwards, and the frills looked ridiculous. The white thigh high socks felt nice, and the pink bows on the sides of them added nicely. Again, he didn't know the client's tastes, so he didn't know whether to go for cute, stunning, or sexy. Cute was his way to go each time, in this predicament.

When he was fitting on the last stocking, running his bony fingers around the soft fabric, he glanced up upon hearing some knocks on the door. Approaching it, he bit his lip at the silk fabric of his panties rubbing against his balls. It made him grin - it felt silly. Giving one last glance in the mirror, he looked presentable enough. His conspicuous ribcage and bony hips accented the lingerie.

Hurrying to the door, he inhaled and exhaled a few times, before putting on a pleasant stance, and unlocked the door before pulling it open. He was greeted with a new face, which was surprisingly nice to look at.

A strong looking jaw, which was decorated with trimmed stubble, eyes like the stormy ocean, and hair like the rays of sunlight, resting with lusciousness on his squared shoulders. Drifting his eyes over the man's choice of apparel, it seemed he was wealthy as well. All designer clothing. Arthur felt lucky, and smiled brightly at him, his bottle green eyes filled with glee. Leaning against the door frame, Arthur rested his head against the wood as he admired him.

"Mr. Bonnefoy?", he spoke finally, and received a perk of a smile. With this pleasant looking client's eyes roaming down his own body, he forced himself to keep his self-consciousness at bay. But when he only was given a quirk of a plucked brow, and an amused snort, he squinted at the other before straightening out his face.

"You look...ah, lovely.", the man spoke, waving his hand in his direction with a smirk on his lips, revealing his white teeth. Arthur secretly grit his teeth, realizing his was French by his accent, and moved aside. "Please, come inside.", he murmured, and motioned inwards. Mr. Bonnefoy paced inside, and glanced around, his eyes filled with amusement. The client wandered over to Arthur's desk.

"I assume this is your first time visiting here, Mr. Bonnefoy.", Arthur mused aloud as he quietly shut the door behind them. Mr. Bonnefoy hummed as he held one of Arthur's lilacs in his fingers, his other arm resting behind his back.

"Please, no need for formalities in such a situation as this. Call me Francis.", he replied, turning to face him with a forced smile on his lips. Arthur had been wringing his hands, a habit of his, but he instantly dropped them upon Francis turning to face him.

"Urhm, yes. Francis. You know my name?", Arthur said as he took a seat on his bed, resting his hands on either side of him, his thumbs brushing against the fabric of his stockings absentmindedly. He looked up at the other. Francis was gazing at him with amusement.

"Arthur. Or shall I call you Mr. Kirkland?", he teased, pacing up to him, his expensive shoes brushing against the carpet. Arthur forced a smile in return, "I am merely here for pleasing you, I am of no higher rank. I don't think it would be appropriate to call me in that way." Francis nodded lightly, and then merely stood there, his hands lightly clenching by his sides.

Arthur eyed his leather jacket, with it's many pockets and zippers and, _why is there a pocket there_? Standing from the bed, Arthur approached him, and gave him a soft smile. "Would you like me to initiate it by undressing you?", he asked lightly, looking into his client's navy blue irises. Francis chuckled a stupid French chuckle, and nodded. "Do the honors, if you must. And would you care if I were to kiss you?", he asked politely, his eyes crinkling at the corners as if this was just child's play.

Licking his lips, Arthur nodded as he dropped his eyes to the collar of Francis' grey sweater. It clung to his skin nicely. "Of course. No need to ask.", he murmured, and looked back up at him. Lifting his hands, Arthur hooked his fingers around Francis' coat at his shoulders, before easing it off his arms, dropping it to the floor.

His eyes were downcast as he felt lips press to his own, and then warm hands met his cheeks, diverting his attention from the removal of clothing, to the kissing. Arthur hummed by mistake, enjoying the lips on his. He heard that dumb chuckle again.

The soft movement of lips together made Arthur feel good inside. It was warm, and the tongue brushing over his upper lip was soft, unlike other fat tongues he's had to deal with. He opened his mouth to inhale a bit, allowing access for his client. He was sure to brush his teeth and tongue viciously before hand, so he was positive Francis was tasting mint right now.

Suddenly he felt a hand grab his backside roughly, surprising Arthur because he hadn't noticed one of Francis' hands move from his cheek. He let out a noise against the other's lips. Then he wiggled out of his foggy and distracted thoughts to begin hastily working on the belt around Francis' waist.

The sound of metal against metal was loud within the room, joining the sounds of kissing. Undoing the button and zipper to his jeans next, Arthur reached a hand in to grab his cock through his underwear. Francis hummed pleasantly against his lips, and pulled back to smirk at him, his lips red and eyes excited.

"Getting right to it, hm?", he purred, reaching down to curl his fingers around Arthur's bony wrist. Arthur let go, and wondered if Francis preferred it to be a long process. How annoying. Arthur shrugged lightly, "I do not know what you prefer."

Francis smiled, understanding. "Follow my lead then, Arthur. Get on the bed." Arthur swallowed down a lump in his throat, licked his sore lips, and nodded. He turned, and then paced to the bed before he bent over a little to crawl over it, swaying his hips a little to give a view to Francis.

He heard a chortle, and only felt embarrassed. This guy was just playing this as a joke! Arthur flushed with embarrassment and annoyance when he turned around to face the other, propped up on his shins with his hands resting by his sides. His other clients just preferred getting it over with, keeping interactions to a minimum, but Francis was endlessly teasing and making this more difficult than it had to be.

"Now, I do believe you were going to undress me. That is somewhat tedious on my part, so I will undress you instead. Thank you for filling my request, by the way. Lovely lingerie you have on.", Francis said with a sincere smile, as he approached the bed. "Lay down.", he finished with.

Arthur nodded, and eased onto his back, resting his arms up by his head, his hands on either side, with his knees drawn in. It was reflex to hide himself, so when he felt Francis' warm hands rest on his knees, he instantly yanked his legs open for Francis, probably too harshly. He blushed at his mistake.

Francis only continued to look amused, a smile remaining on his lips. Scooting closer, he leaned over Arthur's laying body, looking down at him with pleasure in his eyes, seeing his whore vulnerable and willing before him. He ran his hands higher up Arthur's milky pale thighs, drawing a shiver from the other.

His fingers ghosted over the small bulge of Arthur's penis, touching the fabric of his frilly panties, before running his hands up his concave stomach. Arthur was panting lightly by then, looking at him with a furrowed brow. How Francis had gotten Arthur turned on so quickly confused him. With his warm hands traveling over Arthur's evident ribcage, Francis' smile dropped upon feeling how skinny he really was.

"It's..just my body type. Don't fret.", Arthur breathlessly said, before he could process what he was saying. Francis glanced up at him, and smiled. Arthur looked away, and wondered why he said that. Why would a client care?

Francis continued, his fingers playing with the bow of his bra, and the frills. He trailed his hands up, and over Arthur's collar bone, down his skinny shoulders and over his slim biceps. He was pulling the straps of his bra down with his hands.

Arthur bit his lip when the Frenchman hooked his hands around to undo the hook of his bra, his hands surprisingly big on Arthur's back, stroking the skin after undoing it. Withdrawing his hands, Francis watched deeply as he reached back up to pull his bra completely off, Arthur lifting his arms briefly to let the bra fall to the floor.

Of course, it was nothing new to see. It just revealed his flat, pale chest, and pink nipples. Nothing extraordinary. But Francis instantly pinched at his nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, coaxing a surprised grunt from Arthur. He rolled them and pulled them lightly, as if he were fascinated. Arthur raised his knees as he was toyed with, his lip caught underneath his teeth as Francis ran his fingers over his red, sore nipples.

"_Dieu_, you are so appealing. You've only been laying there, and I'm already turned on. No wonder you are the best whore here.", Francis said, looking at Arthur's flushed face with amusement, his lips in a smirk. Arthur only hummed, and felt relief that Francis felt the same as he did, physically.

Reaching down to palm Francis' cock through his underwear (his jeans were still open, the weight of the belt pulling it apart), Arthur noticed it was slightly stiffer than it had been when he first felt it. Now, he could feel how thick and big he was. But then again, he wasn't completely erect. Arthur licked his lips, and more than one place in his body suddenly felt empty.

From the touch, it was as if Francis had a switch turned on inside, and then he was biting and sucking at Arthur's bruised neck, adding to the bites and marks already there. Arthur craned his head back a little, and let out a breathless exhale, closing his eyes as he felt him mouth at his jawline and ear. When Arthur suddenly felt a hand grope his penis through his panties, he twitched and then felt the lips on his cheek grow still.

When they left, Arthur cracked his eyes open and looked at him. Francis was gazing down at him with a slightly shocked expression, but it softened to amusement. "You are enjoying this as well. You're already hard.", he mused, and then sat back. Arthur was blushing from the observation, and propped up on his elbows when Francis withdrew a bit.

Francis was smirking at him smugly as he reached his hands down to hook his fingers around the waistband of Arthur's frilly panties, before easing it down his slim thighs, revealing his flushed, erect cock, and hairless balls. Francis soaked the view into his eyes. It was as if he's never seen another person's cock in his life.

Feeling the urge to close his legs, Arthur bit his lip. When Francis reached a hand over to sort his fingers in the bristle hairs above his penis, Arthur laughed lightly, and then bit his lip when Francis looked at him with a quirked brow and a smile.

"Sorry.", he said, and kept his mouth close. Francis chuckled too, and mused aloud, "I'm curious to know why you laughed, Arthur." Arthur blinked and shook his head, feeling embarrassed. "It's nothing...it's just no one cared to marvel at my pubes. You look like you've never see hair down there.", he mumbled, peeking at the Frenchman.

Francis smiled, "Ah, I see. No, I just enjoy appreciating the body I have been given for the evening." Arthur nodded, "Okay." Then Francis moved his touching from his hair, to pulling the foreskin back from the head of his cock. Arthur hummed lightly, and looked at him with half-mast eyelids, feeling his other hand move to play with his balls.

Suddenly, Arthur shook himself from his pleasure induced haze, and sat up, Francis' hands falling from him. "No, I am..supposed to be making you feel pleasure. My mistake, I apologize.", he quickly said, and scooted closer to grab onto the hem of Francis' sweater. Francis was watching him with brief confusion before shaking his head, his hands grabbing onto Arthur's which were currently lifting his shirt off.

"_Non_, I did enjoy giving you pleasure. As you see, I'm now hard.", Francis said, and gave a laugh, motioning towards his lower section. Arthur did glance down, and saw that his cock was pressing against the fabric of his underwear. Arthur knew he had to attend to it instantly.

So, without a word, he pulled Francis' sweater off. He gawked at his torso. It was of the perfect shade, toned nicely, had the right amount of chest and belly hair. Arthur stared until Francis chuckled again, "Yes, I am appealing to look at as well, hm?"

Blinking, Arthur blushed and nodded. "You're very attractive, Francis.", he murmured and ran his hands down his chest. Francis hummed, and then apparently felt the urge to grab Arthur's backside again, except it was bare this time. Usually, Arthur would feel uncomfortable for a stranger to grope him, but it felt nice.

"Stand.", Arthur instructed, pressing his fingertips into his belly. Francis nodded, and stood from the bed, the metal of the belt hitting together to make noise. Arthur looked up at him with a smile, before reaching out to gingerly hook his fingers around the waistband of his jeans. He could see the look of arousal in Francis' beautiful blue eyes. Arthur eased his jeans down until they hit the floor, and then he gripped the outline of Francis' thick cock through his underwear. That received a groan.

Glancing down, Arthur gazed at his hand, his fingers wrapped partially around the thickness of Francis. Holy shit, he was...well-endowed. Arthur licked his lips. He stroked up and down the outline a few times before he grew impatient himself. He wanted to see this cock.

Pulling down Francis' briefs, his penis was welcomed to the world, and Francis exhaled a breath. Arthur's mouth suddenly felt empty. Staring at the pink head of his cock, Arthur raised a hand to grab around the base, and gave a few sensual tugs, earning an appreciative hum from Francis, and a hand to his head. Flickering his eyes up, Arthur gazed into Francis' hungry eyes, and instantly recognized that look inside the blue. 'Suck me', he could see.

"_Qu'est-ce que tu attends?_", Francis murmured, and gripped a handful of Arthur's short hair, messing it up further. Arthur nodded, not really understanding from the brief years of French he'd taken in high school, but he got the gist of it.

He stuck his tongue out to roll it over the head, looking up at Francis as he did so, and saw Francis separate his lips to let out a small groan. Sitting on the bed, with Francis standing, Arthur felt comfortable to suck him off.

So he took the head in his mouth, hollowed his cheeks, and applied suction, coaxing a hum from Francis. Most guys just sat or stood without a sound, which annoyed Arthur, but Arthur appreciated how Francis let him know he was doing a good job. The hand on his head was stroking as Arthur rolled his tongue against the glands on the head. Arthur moved his hand that was previously resting on Francis' thigh, to stroke his balls in his hand as he took more of his cock in his mouth.

Arthur felt his jaw hurt already from the girth of it. Even his lips were stretched around it, and it was difficult to take it inside his mouth, but he managed. Francis must not have been given blowjobs much because of, well, the size, because he was moaning as Arthur deep throated him.

"_Oui, bon garçon, juste comme ça._", Francis whispered, and ran his fingers through Arthur's hair, staring down, seeing Arthur's lips wrapped around the base, his eyes clenched shut as he swallowed around his cock. Francis was mildly surprised that Arthur hadn't run out of breath yet, his tongue still rubbing against the underside as he kept his cock situated deep inside his throat, his nose pressed against the skin of Francis' naval. But when Arthur did pull back, he broke away entirely, panting heavily with tears in his eyes and ropes of spit connecting them still.

Arthur stared at Francis' glistening cock, glistening from his spit. Arthur licked his sore lips, and reached his hand up to stroke him strongly a few times, the vulgar noises sounding from the wetness. Looking up at him with his wet eyes, Arthur was panting, his lips red. Francis hummed, and moved his hand from his hair to stroke his cheek with his fingers.

"You did well. Now, move back onto the bed, and open your legs for me, _putain_.", he murmured, and Arthur could easily see the look of anticipation and impatience in the Frenchman's eyes. Arthur licked his lips. Then he moved back, pulling himself to the pillows, and then did as he was told. He spread his knees, and placed his hands on them, arching a mocking brow at the other.

Francis grinned an amused lopsided grin, before stepping out of the pool of jeans around his ankles and joining him on the bed. Sliding closer, he didn't hesitate to press a somewhat eager kiss to Arthur's unsuspecting lips. Arthur hummed lightly into his lips, and lifted his frail hands from his knobby knees to hold Francis' warm, flushed cheeks.

Breaking the kiss, Arthur said breathlessly, "You treat me like someone worthy of your kisses." Francis chuckled as he stroked Arthur's inner thigh, staring into the whore's striking emerald irises. Shaking his head slowly, as if drunk on kissing and sensations, Francis hummed, "_Non_...I treat you like anyone I would kiss." Then he reached a hand up to tap Arthur on the nose, making him flinch and blink harshly.

"Do not degrade yourself so easily, my dear."

Arthur huffed in an exhale, and then felt both annoyance and flattery flare inside. Francis smiled at him warmly, his fingers now fiddling with the hem of Arthur's cute thigh high stockings. Really, Arthur couldn't help but scowl at him. "Yes, well, do stop treating me like your lover, and fuck me."

Laughing instantly, Francis nodded a few times, "You are very seductive.", he observed as he reached out to the night stand, as if he knew the much needed supplies would be residing within it. The condoms and lubricant were revealed when Francis pulled the drawer open in a fluid movement, his eyes meandering from his extended hand, to Arthur who was looking at him with a tightly furrowed brow.

Clucking his tongue as he withdrew a condom and a disposable tube of lubricant, Francis gave him a smirk as he shut the drawer more harshly than necessary. "Now now, I know you wouldn't want to wrinkle your pretty face. It takes effort to stay the highest earner. Relax.", he purred into Arthur's ear, his free hand rubbing his pale hip. Arthur realized that maybe he was getting worked up over some client. Francis seemed to know how to press his buttons.

Exhaling, he released the tension in his shoulders and face, closing his eyes for a moment as he heard Francis pop open the cap to the lubricant bottle. Opening his eyes to look at the other, he found him squeezing some of the cold substance onto his fingers. When their eyes met suddenly, sky on grass, Arthur wondered why Francis was so keen on the communication. It was both refreshing and troubling for Arthur. It made the situation both soothing and awkward at the same time. How does one do that? Maybe Arthur was just making it uncomfortable.

"Have you done this before?", Arthur blurted out his next thought, disrupting Francis. Blinking, the Frenchman only looked at him before chuckling with amusement, his white teeth revealed behind his pretty lips. "I am no virgin, believe me.", he insisted, and then laughed again.

Shaking his head, Arthur blushed. "No. With a prostitute."

Blinking again, Francis raised his eyebrows, "Oh!" Then he smiled at the Brit, "Only once or twice." Arthur nodded as if he honestly did care, which he really didn't, but he was curious to why such a godly man was resorting to buying sex. How preposterous.

"Why? Erm..I mean, I know it's not my place to question, but why are you spending money on such a thing when you could easily pick a girl off the street?", he prodded, crossing his arms and eyeing the other. Francis only continued to smile softly, and looked at the lube on his fingers as if it was not there originally.

When he averted his eyes back up to meet Arthur's, he gave a raise of his shoulder. "I'm bored nowadays. I've lost interest in the girls on the street. Repetitive. I'd much rather have a try at the best whore.", he said in a lets-just-get-to-it tone. Arthur paused, and then nodded. He never heard that one before.

But, as previously, he realized he wasn't performing his job correctly. He rested his back against the soft pillows behind him, and pressed his hand to his flat belly, gaining Francis' eyes down there. "Enough, let's begin.", he murmured. Francis only winked at him sarcastically, earning a held back grin from Arthur.

Once Francis grabbed his waist (the lube transferring from Francis' fingers to Arthur's pale skin), Arthur let him adjust him for the position. Francis treated him like a child; lifting him by the waist to pull him into his lap. Arthur blushed and placed his hands on Francis' shoulders, looking down between their bodies, seeing Francis' penis press into his inner thigh.

"Er..", Francis spoke in his ear, earning Arthur's immediate attention. Withdrawing his hand to raise it between them, Francis frowned, "It seems the warmed lubricant has dried. My mistake." Arthur nibbled on his bottom lip and shook his head, "I never asked nonetheless. Shall I prepare myself, or you?" He said this as he looked into Francis' eyes. Routine question.

Francis motioned towards the night stand, where the opened lube bottle was resting, "Do as you wish." Arthur felt irritated at himself for making so many mistakes this session. He was supposed to know what to do, when to, but Francis himself had been distracting him.

Reaching back to snatch it, he sat back in Francis' lap as he poured the remaining lube into his hand, and rubbed it over his fingers hastily. Glancing at Francis as he threw the empty small bottle into the garbage bin by the bed, he exhaled.

"I hope I hadn't totally killed the mood. I apologize for being forgetful.", he murmured, looking down at his wet fingers. He let them warm as the silence remained. He felt lips on his, and he twitched in surprise, finding Francis kissing him deeply, opening his lips to move it over Arthur's, until Arthur succumbed and opened his lips to allow Francis' soft tongue to caress his. He sighed into Francis' lovely lips.

The sounds of their kissing turned Arthur on, their lips softly moving together as their tongues rolled in Arthur's mouth, their saliva mingling as well. It was a full minute later, until Arthur grew breathless. He pulled back with a sharp inhale, panting lightly as he looked dazedly at Francis, his lips shiny and red again from the kiss.

"_Non_, you have been charming. And it is endearing for someone of your work to slip up sometimes.", Francis murmured, a lazy smile on his lips. Arthur blushed deeply, his face heating up. It was as if Francis really cared in truly seducing him, even if he already had his body for the night. Arthur hadn't said anything in reply, so Francis continued.

"And I believe the lubricant is warm now. I do think I would enjoy watching you finger yourself."

Arthur nodded dumbly, before he hesitantly crawled from Francis' lap, to the headboard, and propped up against it with his legs spread. He pulled a pillow under his backside with his dry hand for a better angle, and then lowered his wet hand between his thighs.

He looked straight at Francis' appealing face as he rubbed his fingers in a circular motion around his entrance, licking his lips nervously. When he eased his index finger in, the lube was pleasantly warm. He didn't really need to finger himself in preparation, due to the constant usage, all they needed was lubricant on Francis' cock, but it gave a nice view.

So he didn't wait to slip another finger alongside the first. He could see Francis staring openly - back and forth from where his hand was, to his expression. Arthur attempted to be like a porn actor, making fake noises.

Pressing his fingers directly into his prostate helped a little; he let out a small groan at the stimulating sensation within. Francis' tongue darted out over his bottom lip. Hungrily? Arthur was too focused to care for the details. He added a third.

This one seemed to stretch him a bit more open, the muscles clenching around the three skinny digits. Arthur closed his eyes as he moved them back and forth a few times, rubbing up against his prostate a few times, making his mouth fall open. This seemed to coax a noise of appreciation from his client.

Arthur wanted something other than his boring fingers in his ass, so he withdrew them and exhaled his held breath, and opened his eyes to look at Francis' pleased expression. "Come on, I'm ready.", Arthur said breathlessly, and beckoned him forward.

"Eager.", Francis mused, and then reached out to take Arthur by the wrist, pulling him forward gently. Arthur moved from the pillow to Francis' lap again. He paused, and looked at Francis, "How do you want this?"

Francis smiled, and didn't hesitate to answer. "I would like you to ride me. I want to watch." Nodding, Arthur wasn't fazed. Most clients did. Arthur moved off his lap, and placed his hands on Francis' thighs. "Move to the headboard, it'll be more comfortable for you." Following the directions, Francis scooted around and then sat where Arthur previously was, the pillows supporting his back.

Arthur found this somewhat fun, even. It was thrilling to know he was about to be fucked by _that_.

And by that, he meant the cock that he was currently pulling a condom onto, shielding the thick shaft and pink head. Arthur almost felt disappointed that using a condom was regulation. Just,_ this penis_. How long has it been since Arthur was blessed with such a fine specimen?

Chuckling to himself as he stroked it a few times, applying the last of the lubricant, Arthur glanced up at Francis, seeing him watch with a smirk on his lips. "Enjoying yourself?", Francis spoke, and quirked a brow with his smirk widening. Arthur couldn't really repress his smile, "Surprised?"

"Yes."

Looking down at Francis' penis, he continued to smile, "Well", he began as he scooted closer, bringing his legs on either side of the Frenchman as he kept a hold on his cock, "You shouldn't be with a body like yours." He said this as he propped up in his shins, raising himself over Francis as he angled his cock with his hand.

Francis failed to think of a witty response, instead, his hands met Arthur's hips, his fingers gripping the soft flesh. When Arthur lowered himself down, holding onto Francis' penis, the head rubbed against his entrance, and then Arthur had to readjust himself and bring his backside down again before the pink head slipped inside.

A soft hum emitted from Francis as Arthur slowly sat down into his lap, his thick cock slowly disappearing into the Brit, inch by inch until Arthur's backside met with the Frenchman's thighs. "Oh, fuck.", Arthur breathed, letting his head loll on his shoulders, his hands moving around to rest on Francis' midsection.

He could feel Francis' warm hands run over his thighs, brushing against the fabric of his stockings, ruffling the bows on the outside. "Mm, you are nice and warm inside. Still nicely tight as well.", Francis murmured in a husky voice, and rolled his hips up into Arthur, coaxing a moan from him.

Letting out a breath he'd been holding, Arthur panted as he tried to get used to the girth inside him. It felt nice, it always did, but he just stretched him out more than usual clients. Ivan definitely had to be bigger, but Francis was right behind, it seemed.

"Anytime.", he heard Francis murmur, and then it stirred his eagerness again. He wouldn't seem like a wimpy virgin, he was a whore after all. Arthur raised his head from his shoulder, brought his arms back to place it on the bed, and opened his legs for Francis' view. He gazed at the Frenchman as he clenched around him purposefully, earning a smirk and a hum, before he eased up his cock.

When he lowered himself, it was slow and sensual, Arthur rolling his hips to get it deeper. Francis craned his head back against the pillows, his fingers clenching into Arthur's hips. Arthur smiled, amused that just a simple circular motion of his hips seemed to make them go wild. Then he adjusted himself on the bed, before he began to really move. Francis let out a quiet groan when Arthur raised and lowered himself repeatedly. He raised his head back up to watch Arthur move on his cock, seeing him lower onto his shaft again and again.

As always, Arthur's penis followed movement; bouncing up and down. Arthur hated that. So he leaned forward and placed a hand on the bed as he used his other to hold his balls and erection out of the way, simultaneously giving a better view for Francis, of him fucking his arousal.

Arthur was marveling at how the size of him seemed to press into the right places, stretching him out nicely and angling just right to rub against his prostate each time. Arthur knew how to make the positions work for himself as well, so hitting the spot inside that provided stimulation was simple. He let out a few moans as he dropped back down onto Francis, sitting on him a moment to allow all of it to go inside.

When he did sit down though, he felt Francis move a hand from his hip to brush his hand away from his crotch, letting him see his arousal again. "I don't care either way, and you shouldn't either.", was all he murmured, before his warm fingers wrapped around his erection, and began to stroke him fluidly. It instantly made Arthur gasp and tremble.

Whenever others cared to apply pleasure to his cock, which was rare in this job, it was intense stimulation for him. He never really touched himself there when masturbating, seeing as he orgasmed sooner than he would like. Arthur bit his lip and then began to lift and lower himself again, as Francis continued to fist his cock.

"Oh, God, yes.", Arthur whispered under his breath, craning his head back as he began to move his hips at a faster pace. Francis moaned deeply, and when he bucked his hips up into Arthur when he came down, Arthur replied with a gasp.

Francis then kept a strong grip on Arthur's waist, grinding him down. Catching his bottom lip between his teeth, Arthur tightened around him, and smirked when he saw the way the Frenchman's mouth fell open. Letting out a breathless exhale, Arthur began to ease up and down again.

His legs ached, and his back hurt, but they were discomforts he would have to deal with. The main priority of his job was pleasing his customer – not himself. If Francis wanted this position, he would have to cope with it.

Grunting as he began a faster pace, Arthur's legs were trembling slightly, but to mask the weakness, Arthur shifted onto his shins. Placing his hands flatly on Francis' abdomen, he looked at his client's flushed face as he began to move on his cock again.

"Mm, you're skilled with your work.", Francis murmured with a lack of breath, his hands sliding down over Arthur's tensed thighs, running his fingers over the soft fabric of his thigh highs. Arthur gave a short laugh, and in reply, said, "I've had years of practice."

The response he received was being pushed onto his back, and Francis beginning to pound into him, their skin meeting boisterously within the four walls. Arthur only craned his head back, his mouth agape, his hands clenching wherever they ended up from the transition.

"_Tu es une bonne pute._", was suddenly hissed into his ear, and Arthur closed his mouth, clenching his eyes shut, because he really shouldn't feel turned on from a language. But then teeth were biting at the junction of his neck, an addition to the marks on the skin. A long, low moan was muffled in his skin.

Then the teeth sunken into his neck released, and all he heard was panting. Something heavy was on Arthur's chest suddenly, impelling Arthur to lazily raise his head to see the crown of Francis' head, and his golden hair splayed on his chest. Francis had stopped moving suddenly as well, and was panting into Arthur's skin. Wait, did he just orgasm?

Sure enough, in the next moment, Francis sat back and looked down at him with wet lips, messy hair, and dazed eyes, before he pulled out. Arthur didn't say a thing, only propped up on his elbows, and looked up at Francis as he eased the condom off, tying it before disposing of it in the bin.

When Francis glanced at him, he gave a lopsided smirk. Arthur arched a brow at him, and then moved to sit up, but hands met his hips again. Blinking, Arthur watched in stunned silence as Francis leaned down, shifting to get a better position, and took Arthur's dripping erection into his mouth.

Gasping, Arthur's toes curled in his stockings, his torso falling back onto his elbows, watching Francis. When his client took his cock entirely in his mouth and throat, Arthur craned his head back and moaned deeply, his hips fidgeting under his hands.

Snapping his head back up, Arthur breathlessly groaned upon feeling the dull sensation of pleasure intensify to a tight spring, within his abdomen. "N-No wait, I'm about to come.", he whispered, and pushed at Francis' forehead.

He bit his lip when Francis' dark blue eyes lifted to look at him, his lips still secured around the base of his cock. Retracting his head, Francis broke the connection with a wet noise, and licked his lips, his hands still gripping Arthur's waist.

When he moved a hand to grip the base of Arthur's erection, the Brit twitched. Francis smiled, "I do not mind taking a mouthful of semen. I'm assuming you do daily, so shouldn't you be allowed to fill another one's mouth? Not to mention the mess it would result in otherwise." Arthur furrowed his brow, not exactly understanding his logic, and continued to breathe heavily, the rejection of his orgasm making his thoughts clouded.

Francis only looked at him a moment more before moving his hand, keeping Arthur's flushed erection in place, before lowering his head to take the wet tip in his mouth, sucking as he rubbed his tongue against the glands on the underside. Arthur moaned lowly, and gripped his fingers into the fabric of his comforter.

Taking it half-way in his mouth, Francis hummed around the sensitive skin, applying suction, until Arthur's hips began to jerk and a warm substance filled his mouth, over his tongue. He could hear Arthur breathlessly panting, his legs trembling.

A minute of silence passed, save for Arthur's heavy breathing, as he recovered from his orgasm. Then, "What...if I had any STDs? Aren't you concerned?", Arthur breathed, still propped up on his elbows as he stared with confusion at his client, who was turning around to briefly spit his ejaculation into the bin, holding his hair back as he did so.

Turning to face the other, Francis shrugged with a flippant expression. "Whatever you may have, I doubt it would be new to me.", he said in a serious tone, and Arthur looked devastated. Then he chuckled, and patted Arthur on his disgruntled hair. "Kidding. I was informed you are clean, by your lovely receptionist. She knows everything regarding the workers here, she told me.", he spoke clearly, as he stood from the bed, approaching where his clothes were left, neglected.

Arthur wiped his shocked expression clean, and gave a sharp nod. "Right.", he replied with, as if he knew from the start. Well, he did, because workers were required to be clean, and it's mandatory for customers to use condoms.

Francis glanced at him over his shoulder with a knowing smirk, the skin at the corners of his eyes crinkling with amusement. Arthur blushed, and looked at the embroidered flowers on his blanket, picking at a loose thread. He'd have to fix that.

It was silent while Francis got dressed. Arthur was thinking of how to prepare for his next client, still messing with the unkempt thread as he did so. When Francis cleared his throat, Arthur averted his distant stare to him.

"Well, I thank you for your charming services.", Francis began with a wave of his arm, and a pleasant smile, earning a bewildered look from the Brit, "And I'll see to it I book another appointment. Adieu." Arthur watched him give a wink, before turning and smoothly striding to the door, pulling it open gracefully, and walking out, shutting it quietly behind him, as if the Frenchman was never here.

Arthur stared at the door, stunned. That guy was strange. Arthur sighed, and ran his hands over his face. At least he's gained another regular, it seems. Laying on his back, Arthur stared up at the ceiling as he just went over what happened. He could tend to cleaning up the place in a bit.

* * *

_Translations:_

**Dieu** - God

**Non** - No

**Qu'est-ce que tu attends?** - What are you waiting for?

**Oui, bon garçon, juste comme ça. - **Yes, good boy, just like that.

**putain - **Whore

**Tu es une bonne pute. - **You're a good whore.

(P.S I am aware Google Translate is not reliable)

End of Part 1 - **FrUK**


	2. RusEng

**Warning:** Prostitution, mild strangulation

Part 2 – **RusEng**

* * *

The day Arthur had off of work was Sunday. Sunday was a busy day for normal people – church if they were religious, a day of relaxation other wise. As for Arthur, he had to give his body a rest, and his mental health as well. Sometimes relentless sex everyday took a toll on his energy.

So here he was, perched at his desk in his comfortable chair, his knees drawn up and his chin resting on one as he gazed down at the table top, his eyes darting back and forth as he read a description on the _centaurea cyanus_ flower. His fingers were tapping on the mahogany wood absentmindedly as the clock to his side ticked with each second passing. In a state of total relaxation and apathy, Arthur lazily reached for his tea, which had grown considerably cold, but he seemed to forget, only reminded when the cold, bitter taste bombarded his taste buds, resulting in a sour expression.

But before he lifted the cursed cup to his lips, a loud, impatient vibration traveled throughout the wood of the desk. Jolting out of his haze, Arthur blinked and placed his tea down to lift his angry phone from the table top. Looking at the screen, it showed a new text. Once typing in the password, he opened it and read with a lack of concern.

"_Urgent appointment. Mr. Braginski. Arrival in ten minutes, be prepared._", read the text from Elizaveta, resulting in a startled and frustrated furrow of Arthur's brow. Worrying at his bottom lip, he opened the keypad and began to respond, "_My day off?_" He received an immediate reply.

"_Postponed. Urgent._"

Groaning in annoyance, Arthur angled his torso to chuck his phone at the bed. Fuming, he crossed his arms and glared at the picture of the cornflower in his book, his face scrunched up in displeasure. He took a few seconds to rant in his head at that dumb ol' demanding Russian, but as soon as the thought crossed his mind, he made a blank face.

No, it was alright. No, scratch that, it wasn't alright, but Ivan was a good man. Ivan's sessions were really the only ones he thoroughly enjoyed. Being the only client that cared for Arthur's well-being and feelings, Arthur had grown fond of him. Not only was he caring, he was, in a way, kind.

Sighing, Arthur then, disgruntled, apologized mentally towards him, and stepped out of his chair. Closing his book, he looked at the hard front cover, with a picture of tulips, large golden letters declaring '_THE MANY DIFFERENT WONDERS OF FLOWERS_'. Arthur snorted, and then grabbed his laptop before stuffing them under the bed, where his daily things usually went before appointments.

Giving another sigh, he grabbed the tea, dumped it out in the toilet to his private bathroom, before throwing the disposable cup in the bin. He was too lazy to replace the little garbage bag for the session. Plus, he was fairly certain Ivan wouldn't give a shit if there happened to be a disposable coffee cup in the bin.

And one thing he knew of as well, was that Ivan did not have a preference for Arthur's apparel during the appointments. So, Arthur just kept on what he had on at the moment, too lazy to change into something that wasn't so unattractive. Just a loose sweater that reached half down his thighs, and his boxers.

But he did glance in the mirror. Looking at his boring self, he gazed at his unamused expression. The same stupid freckles dotted his nose, and his eyes were dull looking. His teeth were still crooked, which was expected, because he's had them irregular since he was thirteen. He'd have to brush them before hand. Running his hands repeatedly through his messy, sand-colored hair, it gave no assistance to sorting the locks out. They still pointed in all directions.

He briefly lifted his shirt, his evidently seen rib cage exposed, the bones jutting out in all places, his stomach concave. Grimacing at the image, he dropped his sweater. Enough of that. Time to finish getting ready.

After brushing his teeth vigorously, he washed his face, dried it off, and took a piss before leaving the bathroom, feeling a bit more refreshed. His bed was still unmade from this morning, so he smoothed out the comforter, his bony fingers traveling over the fabric softly, and then situated the pillows with a perk of a smile on his wet lips.

It was when he pushed his chair into it's previous spot under the desk, that there was a few heavy knocks on the door. It made him twitch in surprise, his eyes blinking a few times before he glanced at the door over his shoulder.

Knowing it must be Ivan by the persistent, unintentional loud knocking, Arthur exhaled a deep breath, smoothed out his loose sweater, and paced up to the daunting square of wood. When he unlocked it, and pulled it open slowly, he had to literally look up to meet Ivan's wise resembling eyes. He was greeted with a warm smile.

"Arthur..", Ivan mused, in a tone that sounded like it was a thought, rather than the person who was standing before him with an incredulous expression. Opening the door wider, Arthur leaned against it as he waved him inside, "Hey there, Ivan." With his eyes drifting up and down Arthur, Ivan's eyes softened at his choice of apparel as he walked inside with a controlled stride.

Arthur did the same for him, eyeing his outfit. A tight, black Belstaff coat, dark trousers, and sleek expensive shoes. All his clients were bound to have some money in their pockets, regarding the prices for this brothel. Ivan's choice was nothing new. And his scarf was secured around his neck, as it's always been.

"Evening, my little slut.", Ivan said so casually, it made Arthur smile. Standing from the door, Arthur softly closed it, redid the lock, and turned to face the large Russian, with crossed arms and a displeased expression on, replacing his one of amusement. "Why this 'urgent' appointment on my day of rest?", he questioned instantly. Ivan was comfortable and patient enough with him to not care whether he was disrespectful. This was another reason why he was Arthur's favorite client.

Ivan gave him a tender smile. Arthur quirked a brow. Ivan plucked off his gloves.

"To be honest, _малюткa_, I did long for your surly self.", he said pleasantly, giving Arthur a glance as he began undoing the buttons of his exorbitant coat with flicks of his wrists. Shaking his head, Arthur approached him, dropping his arms and gave him a small smirk, "Is that your bloody excuse? I was enjoying a pleasant evening, and to be disturbed by such a thing."

Continuing to smile, Ivan looked at him with soft eyes, "Disturbed?" Arthur leaned in to him, and whispered, "Horribly." Ivan chuckled, and reached a hand up to pinch Arthur's cheek with his long fingers, "I do apologize." Arthur sputtered, and pushed his hand away, giving him a furrow of his brow, and a huff of his breath. Ivan smiled warmly at him, as he always did. So infuriatingly patient. Arthur felt like a spoiled child, glaring up at an understanding adult.

When Ivan raised a hand to gingerly stroke his fingers across Arthur's cheek, his eyes loving, Arthur wasn't taken aback. Ivan was the most touchy client he's ever had. Outside of the sex. Arthur melted. But his hands were still cold, like always. It was said that people with cold hands had warm, big, hearts, right? Ivan must be the symbol for that, because it was insanely true.

Arthur's anger evaporated, replaced with relaxation. Ivan gave him a feeling of ease and comfort. Ivan was like a warm blanket to him – making him unbearably disorientated and cozy.

With a pleased, desiring hum coming from Arthur when Ivan leaned down to press their lips together, the Englishman's arms instantly lifted to curl around Ivan's neck, his forearms resting against the soft fabric of his scarf. His kisses were to be expected.

Ivan's large hands slid around his sides, over his back as his plump lips kissed Arthur's.

Their breath,tongues, and saliva mingling, Arthur felt light headed and his thoughts clouded. Sliding his arms down to rest his hands on Ivan's chest, he hummed when Ivan trailed his tongue lightly over Arthur's teeth and upper lip. Teasingly flicking his tongue against Ivan's, Arthur's lips twitched in the corners in warning of a smirk. Ivan's tongue was large in his mouth, but Arthur wasn't revolted by it.

Breathless a minute later, Arthur broke away. He cracked his eyes open to gaze dazedly at Ivan, who's face was flushed, his wet lips curled into a pleased smile. Returning it, Arthur moved his hands up to rest at Ivan's broad shoulders, "Have I ever mentioned you are bloody good at kissing?"

Even if this man seemed to smile constantly, it was a feat to urge him to show a teeth-revealing grin. This he gave to Arthur - his lips parting to show his white teeth. "I am flattered.", Ivan says, and leans in to give a peck to Arthur's flushed, freckled cheek.

Hesitating, Arthur slid his hands down and away from Ivan's shoulders, feeling embarrassed that they were acting like lovers. He was just a whore, and he was the client. Nothing more or less. Even if kissing was to be expected, they did it differently than others.

Ivan, being the perceptive person he was, reached down to take Arthur's hands, and guided him to the bed, sensing Arthur's unease. Following silently, Arthur watched him with wary eyes. Motioning to the bed, Ivan released his hands, "Please lay down, _цветок_."

Swallowing down the rock in his throat, Arthur nodded. Then he crawled onto the bed, before turning to face him. He hesitated, licking his lips, before easing onto the covers, his head falling to meet the soft pillows, his hands playing with the fabric of his sweater. Looking up at the admiring Russian with a squint, he waited for Ivan to do something.

The first thing Ivan did was smile down at him, his eyes glinting with pleasure at seeing Arthur waiting for him, willing. He was usually so uptight, but seeing him like this surely was not very common. After delicately folding his coat over the back of Arthur's desk chair, Ivan revealed his gray, tight sweater underneath. Arthur watched silently, propped up on his elbows now, and his eyes followed Ivan as the larger man approached the foot of the bed, looking down at him with hungry eyes, before he placed his knee on the bed, the mattress sinking.

When he moved over Arthur, his knees on either sides of his legs, Arthur smirked up at him when they were level, and lowered himself back down onto the pillows. Ivan's scarf fell down to pool on the comforter.

Arthur let out a breathless exhale when Ivan sat back on his shins, and slid his cold, large hands under his sweater, feeling the curve of his concave stomach, and then the bumps of his ribcage. Humming, Ivan slid his sweater up, revealing his milk pale torso, his hands sliding down to rest over Arthur's hips.

"You have yet to eat properly, it seems. Or is it your...habit?", Ivan murmured, his fingers threading through the hairs that lead down past the waistband of Arthur's boxers. Swallowing thickly, Arthur looked away to where Ivan's coat dangled on his chair. He heard a soft, knowing chuckle from Ivan.

"Ah..have I offended you?", Ivan mused aloud, and then gave a gentle laugh again, as if it were a humorous ordeal. His hands moved up Arthur's stomach, which lifted and fell in an uneven pattern, and remained there. Arthur's eyes were now squinting crossly at the coat, as if it were contaminating the place.

Continuing to smile, Ivan hummed, and felt like prodding some more, but let it be. No need to upset his whore. Arthur exhaled, and looked at him in the eye, and glared. "Just because I have told you about my problem does not mean you can patronize me with that information.", he growled, his hands clenching into fists by his sides.

Ivan smiled down at him. Without a word, he slid closer, drawing himself over the other man, and leaned down, and stared down into his piercing emerald irises. Arthur, without a word, returned the gaze with his mouth in a frown. When Ivan angled his head to softly kiss him, Arthur's jaw set and he resisted the urge to return it.

After a moment of Ivan's warm lips attempting to get a response out of him, Arthur felt a hand roughly grip his chin, making him jolt and make a noise of surprise against Ivan's mouth. Then he complied, realizing he wasn't fulfilling his work. Kissing back, Arthur raised his hands, unclenched his fists, and hesitated to place his hands lightly on Ivan's shoulders.

And once more, Ivan's large tongue swiped over his bottom lip, and Arthur opened his lips for him. Shifting under him, Arthur fidgeted when the hand that was resting on his stomach slithered lower to slip under the waistband of his boxers.

"Mh", Arthur made a small noise against his lips, his tongue growing still when Ivan's warmed up fingers curled around his penis. Ivan simply held him down there, and Arthur's lips faltered in the kissing, Ivan's now mashing against his in a weird way. Fidgeting, Arthur rolled his hips, and yet the grip on his cock tightened, making him whimper accidentally.

His hands clenched on Ivan's sweater, and then he slid his hands in to push on Ivan's chest. Breaking the kiss with a gasp, Arthur looked up into Ivan's amused, light colored eyes, and panted heavily. "You barely fit in my hand.", the Russian murmured, and released his now interested penis.

"Idiot.", Arthur said between breaths, and licked his red lips. Ivan chuckled and sat back. "I enjoy seeing you weak and unkempt.", he mused as he casually slipped Arthur's underwear down and off his pale, thin legs.

Giving a wry laugh, Arthur propped up on his elbows, "Most people do." He watched with half-lidded eyes as Ivan dropped his boxers to the floor. When Ivan glanced back to him, and gave a small smirk. Arthur waved him closer.

And as Ivan moved back to him, Arthur sat up, and reached out to grab the hem of his sweater. "You have been dressed for far too long.", he commented before lifting the garment of clothing up and over Ivan's head, lifting his scarf with it. When Ivan's face was revealed once more, Arthur leaned forward to kiss him.

A soft chuckle vibrated against his lips, and then he felt a hand rest on his lower back, the other sliding over the back of his neck. Their lips moved together briefly, before Arthur broke away with an inhale and reached down to work on the button of his pants, and smirked at him as he hastily unzipped them.

"Cmon, I don't have to pull it off of you, yeah? I'm not your mum.", Arthur said impatiently, and patted Ivan on the thigh. Ivan laughed lightly, his lips curled into a smile as he stood and stepped out of them. When he kicked them aside, Arthur scooted to the edge, and grabbed onto Ivan's hips to keep him standing there.

Looking up at him with a soft smile, Arthur slid his hands up his abdomen (which, he has to admit, has gotten fuller, he's noticed), and then down again to hook his fingers around the waistband of his briefs. Ivan only watched him as Arthur slipped them down, until Ivan's half-erect penis stood out from it.

Arthur gave up pulling his underwear down more, and gazed at his cock. It wasn't at it's full potential, so he reached up to curl his thin fingers around the thickening shaft, and gave it a few fluid strokes, the foreskin moving back over the head a few times. Ivan let out an exhale.

Sooner than later, it became erect, the skin now flushed a pink, and Arthur's fingers could barely meet around the base. Arthur licked his lips. He wanted to taste the liquid that was beading at the tip, but instead he looked up at Ivan, who's face had become flushed.

"This time, you lay down.", Arthur said, and let go of him, before scooting out of the way. Ivan, gave him a small smile, as always, before he moved onto the bed, turning to rest against the headboard, sinking into the pillows. Arthur followed, and placed his hands on Ivan's hairy thighs. When he slid them inwards, Ivan shivered and spread his legs.

Arthur gave him a toothy grin as he scooted in between his legs, and slipped down onto his belly, laying between Ivan's legs. He looked up at the Russian, and saw he was watching with delicately tinted cheeks. Setting his elbow on the bed, Arthur cradled his chin in his palm as he walked his fingers up Ivan's thigh, giving him a lazy smile as he did so.

"What do you want from me?", he asked lightly, and looked at his client with amusement in his eyes. Ivan only smiled softly, and reached down to thread his fingers in Arthur's messy hair. "I would like you to suck me, _кролик_.", he murmured, and stroked his hand through his hair, before lifting it away.

Nodding, Arthur wet his lips with his tongue, and averted his stare down to Ivan's cock, which was still as ridiculously huge as its always been. Now, he's tried to get that thing down his throat multiple times, but it triggers his gag reflex each time. And he doesn't have a strong gag reflex.

Still, it was good practice.

Arthur opened his mouth and lapped up the liquid that was slipping down the shaft, rubbing his tongue against the opening where it came from. It tasted salty. Ivan groaned. Arthur hummed, and took the head in his mouth, his hands moving to rest over Ivan's thighs, feeling the hairs tickle his palms.

He gave himself a small challenge – to not use his hands.

So, he gave the head a good long suck, before running his tongue down over the glands on the underside. Ivan's hips fidgeted under his hands. Lifting his eyes to look up, he noticed that Ivan's hands were lightly clenching the sheets. He knew Ivan was one to be grabby. As he forced more of his cock into his mouth, his lips stretched wide around the girth of it, Arthur reached a hand up to gently take hold of Ivan's wrist, and lifted his hand to rest over his head. Ivan always loved holding his head, he knew.

Ivan hummed at both the stimulation and the gesture. He continuously stroked his fingers through the locks of Arthur's hair as the Brit hollowed his cheeks and rolled his tongue against the head. With his jaw beginning to hurt, Arthur realized he could barely get more into his mouth.

It was less than half. Trying to get himself to take more in for his client's sake, he opened his mouth wide and forced his head down, and he heard a low moan from Ivan, but the head of his cock rubbed directly on his uvula, making him gag and make a choked noise.

The hand in his hair moved to lightly push on his forehead, urging Arthur to retract completely. Arthur was panting, and saliva was dripping from his lips. He looked up at Ivan with wet eyes, and swallowed thickly.

"That was enough. Let me penetrate you now.", Ivan purred, and stroked his fingers down Arthur's warm cheek. Nodding weakly, Arthur licked his lips, and gave Ivan's cock one sensual stroke, getting his fingers wet, before he moved to straddle his waist. Ivan's warm hands moved to rest on his hips.

"As you know..", Arthur began with a lack of breath, "The lubricant is in the night stand." Ivan gave him a knowing smile, and then didn't hesitate to reach over, breaking his gaze to the nightstand to pull open the drawer and withdraw a single-use bottle of lubricant.

Ivan closed the drawer again, specifically leaving the condoms alone, and ordered, "Get on your belly, I will prepare you." Arthur felt a blush creep into his cheeks, and he nodded, before complying and moving off of Ivan's thighs to rest his stomach on the soft fabric of his comforter, propping up on his elbows. He looked over his shoulder at the other, watching with half-lidded eyes as Ivan followed, and then nudged Arthur's legs apart, to sit between them.

Nibbling on his bottom lip, Arthur dropped his head to hide his face when he felt Ivan's warm hands spread his backside open, and already cool lube was dripped onto his entrance. Ivan really didn't bother with warming the lubricant, but Arthur didn't mind the brief discomfort of the cold.

He heard the clatter of Ivan setting the bottle back to the nightstand, and then his hands were groping Arthur's backside, kneading the flesh in his big hands, making Arthur shift and shiver. Then his fingers were sliding in to rub the wet substance into Arthur's hole, before his thick forefinger was easing into him. Inhaling deeply, Arthur closed his eyes and licked his lips, the feeling of Ivan's long index finger pressing in all the way feeling good, admittedly.

"Mm, deliciously constricting as always, Arthur. One would assume you wouldn't be in your line of work.", he heard Ivan murmur as he retracted and pushed his finger back in a few times. Arthur dropped his head onto his forearm, and closed his eyes. He didn't speak, instead opened his legs wider as Ivan's middle finger was joining his index, squeezing in beside the other.

When he pressed them in all the way, his other fingers resting over Arthur's backside, and hooked them downwards to press directly into his prostate, Arthur gave a small buck of his hips, and gripped a fistful of his comforter in his hand. He heard an amused chuckle, and then a third finger was rubbing against his entrance, trying to slip in.

Gritting his teeth, Arthur felt it ease in amongst the other two. Ivan's fingers were both long and big. He gasped when Ivan teased his prostate again. His other hand was pushing his backside apart, and Arthur didn't doubt he was soaking in the view as he moved his fingers back and forth.

And Ivan didn't hesitate to repeatedly rub his fingers against his prostate, making Arthur shift on the bed and groan quietly. "F-fuck.", Arthur whispered, and felt his erection rub against the fabric each time he moved. Ivan could easily make him come from this.

But then the fingers were slowly removed, a vulgar noise sounding when they left. Panting lightly, Arthur rested his head on the blanket, no longer supported by his elbows, his hands resting by his head. Ivan softly groped his backside once more, making Arthur tremble, before the Russian said, "Alright, turn onto your back and I will take you."

Swallowing down the dryness in his throat, Arthur exhaled as he sat up, bringing his legs in, and then turned to Ivan, his eyes downcast. When two pillows were handed to him, Arthur lifted his eyes to meet the other's, and saw both desire. Arthur licked his lips as he situated the pillows behind him, and turned to face Ivan as he lowered back onto the pillows, and spread his legs.

Since the very beginning of Arthur's career in prostitution, Ivan has been his customer. Arthur may not know much about him, even if they knew each other for about three years, but Arthur knew, from the multiple tests (from the papers as well), that Ivan was clean of any sort of infections or STDs.

So he wasn't concerned when Ivan moved between his legs without bothering to put on a condom. Ivan smiled at him, gingerly held his cheeks, and then kissed him deeply. Arthur hummed into the kiss, and lifted his arms to drape them around his neck, closing his eyes. Their lips moved together passionately until Ivan broke the kiss with a breathless inhale.

Arthur grinned at him as he panted, and reached down to grab Ivan by the cock and tug him forward. Ivan chuckled, and complied – replacing Arthur's hand with his own to press his cock to Arthur's wet entrance. Then he slowly eased his hips inwards, until the head of his cock slipped in. He stopped half-way inside Arthur.

With his mouth falling open, Arthur dropped his head back onto the plush pillows, furrowing his brow as he gave deep exhales, trying to take his mind off the uncomfortable stinging pain that accompanied Ivan's entrance. "Извините.", Ivan whispers, his eyes falling slightly as Arthur trembled. Arthur snaps his head up to look Ivan in the eyes, "No", he says with sincerity, "It is alright."

Blinking with confusion at the sudden consolation, Ivan looked down at him with mild bewilderment before he smiled softly. Arthur's face flushed and he looked away, his hands messing with the fabric of the blanket below him. He didn't realize the discomfort had left his mind, until Ivan shifted, and he hissed under his breath.

"May I move?", Ivan asked in a hush tone, and Arthur nodded sharply, his hands lifting to rest on Ivan's broad shoulders. They curled into light fists when Ivan's large hands took hold of his thighs and moved them apart more, positioning him.

"Mmn..fuck..", Arthur breathed when Ivan pressed his hips between Arthur's thighs, their skin connected. Already feeling perspiration break over his skin, Arthur bit his bottom lip. Ivan gave him a moment to relax. He was watching Arthur with patient eyes, his hands moving from Arthur's slim thighs to his bony hips.

Arthur exhaled, "Move."

Ivan withdrew his hips, coaxing a tremble from Arthur, before smoothly, and slowly, rolling them back inwards. Arthur grunted quietly as Ivan repeated the movement, his hands grabbing tightly at Ivan's shoulders.

"Relax.", Ivan murmured, and Arthur willed himself to let his muscles grow lax, and gave a few deep breaths. His thighs trembled as Ivan slowly rocked his hips. Ivan's soft groans brought a feeling of warmth into Arthur's gut, as well as the light strokes to his prostate whenever Ivan made an upward motion with his hips.

Soon enough, Ivan could more easily move within Arthur, the rocks of his hips quickening. Arthur groaned after each movement, his eyes clenched shut lightly. Feeling lips kiss at his own, Arthur's eyes opening momentarily to see Ivan, before he kissed back with light purses of his lips, until Ivan caught his bottom lip between his teeth. That stirred something in Arthur, and then he grasped his hands into Ivan's hair, and returned the nip to Ivan's lips. He let Ivan slip his tongue onto his.

Instead of soft rolls of his hips, Ivan began to snap his hips forward, Arthur letting out breathless groans amidst the kissing. Breaking the kiss, Arthur sucked in a breath and said, "You're so bloody big." Ivan hummed, watching Arthur's red lips move.

Arthur locked his legs around Ivan's waist, and slid a hand down Ivan's back. Ivan moved his hands from Arthur's hips to the bed, balancing as he moved his hips with more vigor. He watched with hunger in his eyes as Arthur threw his head back and moaned, before raising a hand to grab Arthur's jaw. Dropping his eyes from the ceiling to meet Ivan's, Arthur panted as he felt Ivan move his fingers over his lips, slipping his fingers in to feel the inside of his bottom lip.

Letting his eyes fall close, Arthur felt Ivan's fingers move out from his mouth, wet from his spit, and traveled up the side of his face, leaving a wet trail, and stopped at the corner of his eye. Then the hand moved down his neck, before the fingers wrapped slowly and carefully around Arthur's fragile throat. The warm grip on his neck made Arthur swallow heavily, his heart beat accelerating.

"Would you enjoy me punishing you, кролик?", was whispered into his ear, "Taking your last breath from you?" Arthur trembled. The thrusts of Ivan's hips turned into pounding as his grip around Arthur's throat tightened, a weak noise emitting from the larynx within.

Arthur sucked in a breath when the fingers clenched, and a set of lips were gently mouthing at the skin mapped over his carotid artery. "I..van", Arthur whispered, and felt the welcomed sensation of pleasure twist in his gut. He licked his dried lips as the fingers continued to constrict, blocking the majority of his airway. He made a choked noise when Ivan dug his teeth into Arthur's neck, below where his grip was, amongst the other bruises and marks.

Then suddenly Arthur could suck in clear breaths of air, the tightening around his neck gone, only replaced with soft lips. "Глупо.", was hissed into his ear next, Arthur panting. He noticed, no longer distracted by the loss of air, that Ivan's hips had slowed. Arthur opened his eyes once more to look up at Ivan, seeing his face flushed and irises dilated.

Hands then grabbed him by the thighs, and Arthur realized Ivan just wanted to switch positions. So he let Ivan move him about. Ivan propped up on his knees, and his hands went under Arthur's thighs, pushing his waist higher. With his knees basically to his chest, Arthur watched Ivan with a furrowed brow, before the Russian began to rock his hips again.

Ah, Arthur thought, he just wanted to see.

And as assumed, Ivan watched as his cock moved back and forth into Arthur, his teeth catching his bottom lip at the sight. Arthur realized, with appreciation, that this position provided more prostate stimulation, because Ivan was rubbing it inside him much easier.

"Oh God, Ivan!", Arthur said breathlessly as Ivan began to snap his hips forward again. Arthur, feeling the winding in his abdomen tighten, reached down to stroke his wet cock, that was previously left neglected against his stomach.

But when Ivan pulled out to far, his cock slipping out, Arthur made a noise of indignation. He opened his legs wider, and felt Ivan lift a hand from between his calf and thigh to position his cock again. Arthur withheld the urge to tell him to hurry up, because soon enough Ivan was pushing back into him with a swift buck of his hips.

Groaning after each thrust, Arthur felt pre-cum wet his stomach from his cock due to the constant prostate stimulation. Ivan was whispering in Russian, and Arthur felt him push in all the way and remained still, their skin connected (not to mention, Arthur felt Ivan's balls against his skin).

Arthur weakly opened his eyes to see Ivan's eyes clenched shut, his mouth agape as he let out a low groan. Biting his bottom lip, Arthur watched and felt as Ivan languidly rolled his hips a few more times, panting heavily as he did so, before he slowly withdrew, his cock falling out.

Arthur wanted to lower his legs, seeing as Ivan was done, but Ivan kept holding his legs up. And then he pulled Arthur's legs apart, staring straight down at his entrance. "You are so stretched and red, Arthur, does it hurt?", he spoke a little breathlessly, and glanced up at the other. Arthur blushed, but didn't say anything for a moment.

When Ivan moved a hand from under his calf to slip two fingers inside him randomly, Arthur grunted and then whispered, "Not really." He bucked lightly when Ivan directly pressed into his prostate. Ivan smiled softly at him, "You are about to orgasm, yes? Touch yourself."

Arthur clenched his toes at his words, wondering if Ivan was intentionally talking dirty. But he obeyed, and gripped his cock, and let out a gasp, before he stroked and squeezed. Reaching down to place a hand on his inner thigh, Arthur looked up at Ivan with half-lidded eyes and licked his lips, feeling his thick fingers move inside him.

He jerked a few times when Ivan rubbed his prostate, Arthur giving a shouted moan, his orgasm washing over his mind and nerves and body, sending his ejaculation onto his chest. Ivan's fingers slipped out, and released his hold on Arthur's shaking legs. Immediately, Arthur's legs fell to the bed, and he breathed raggedly in an attempt to regain his breath.

"Well done.", Ivan murmurs and scoots up to lean down, pressing his lips over Arthur's. Arthur weakly kissed back, raising a hand to curl his fingers around the side of Ivan's neck. Ivan only gave him a tender kiss, before he was pulling away, to stand. Humming, Arthur closed his eyes momentarily. He could hear Ivan shifting about, no doubt getting dressed.

Yet, the familiar weight of another person joined him on the bed, and Arthur opened his eyes to see Ivan still nude, but now holding a damp hand towel in his grip. Arthur closed his eyes, and Ivan's hand rested over his frail shoulder as the hand holding the towel wiped it over his belly and chest, clearing the sweat and semen from his skin. Arthur felt him rub the damp cloth over his penis, and down below to swipe away the ejaculation which was escaping him.

"Thanks.", Arthur mumbles, and lifts his eyelids to gaze up at Ivan, who was propped on an elbow. He's given a smile, and then Ivan retracts his arm, before standing again. Arthur watches him leave into the bathroom, only to return a moment later to re-join him on the bed. This time, he scoots up beside him, and gives him a gentle smile as he props up on an elbow once more. Arthur furrows his brow at him.

Ivan begins to stroke his fingers through Arthur's messy hair, and Arthur gives a light smirk. "Cliche, Ivan.", he mumbles, and laughs quietly when Ivan doesn't stop. Ivan doesn't comment, only continues to thread his fingers through his short locks.

Eventually he grows bored of the repetitive motion, and instead rests his hand over Arthur's eyes. Arthur is mildly confused, raising a hand to rest it over Ivan's wrist, but it doesn't move. "Rest, Arthur, you are no doubt tired.", he hears murmured, and Arthur scoffs, dropping his arm to his stomach.

"Yeah, because you interrupted my day of rest."

No reply comes, so instead he huffs and complies. He closes his eyes, and relaxes, letting his mind clear. He focuses on the soft inhales and exhales of Ivan. It lulls him into a drowsy state, and his head lolls to the side, a deep exhale emitting from Arthur.

He falls asleep with Ivan's hand remaining over his eyes.

* * *

_Translations:_

малютка - little one

цветок - flower

кролик - rabbit

Извините - sorry

Глупо - silly

(P.S I am aware Google Translate is not reliable)

End of part 2: **RusEng**


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